


God Bless America

by RedWiddershins



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Patriotism, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-28 23:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15717597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWiddershins/pseuds/RedWiddershins
Summary: In which Soldier discovers there are non-Americans on his team.Demo never knew storytelling could cause the team this much trouble.





	1. The Dangers of Reading

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an old conversation I had in the TF2 Discord I'm in. A shout-out to them!

Demo didn’t expect for his weekly reading to cause a mid-life crisis.

The blizzard prevented either RED or BLU from leaving their barracks. Work would have to resume tomorrow, much to the dismay of Scout, Pyro, and Soldier. A restless offence trio with no outlet for pent-up energy was dangerous. It was almost as dangerous as the time Pyro ignited Medic and Heavy’s shared book collection.

No one wanted an angered Heavy-Medic pair again. That was a terrible week for the team.

Which led to Demo heaving his annotated leather book of Scottish folklore out of his trunk. It was time to start his weekly reading anyways. There was no harm in reading out his favourite stories. Storytelling might be enough to catch the attention of the offence trio for today.

So here he was, the book on his lap as he sat on the rocking chair by the fireplace in the common room. With an audience in front of him, the whole scene reminded him of his grandmother from his father’s side of his family. She memorized the entire contents of the leather book before she went blind, allowing her to entertain a younger Demo whenever he visited her. Just as she told stories to him during his childhood, it was now his turn to do the same.

Scout lied down on the patched-up sofa, tossing his baseball. He looked at the ceiling, a hand tucked beneath his head. He turned his head towards Demo whenever he took a dramatic pause.

Pyro’s gas mask reflected the flickering flames of the fireplace. They listened to Demo, resting their chin atop folded gloved hands.

Soldier was sitting on the lumpy armchair, leaning towards Demo’s direction with a grin. Even during the ceasefire, he still wore his helmet.

“- And that’s why I shouldn’t catch any of you trying to flirt with lassies out by the lakes! I whacked that damned kelpie in the head with a bottle five times ‘fore she gave up the fight.” Demo pulled up his sleeve, pointing to a thin scar running from his elbow to his wrist. “You might be next.”

“Did the booze mess with your brain, knucklehead? How didja end up flirting with a horse?” Scout looked over at Demo.

Demo pressed his face into his callused palms for a moment. “Did you hear anything I said? You ken that kelpies like to dress themselves up as pretty lassies!”

“But you were still drunk, yeah?”

He didn’t need a reminder he was a drunkard. He reminded himself every day already. Looking up, he gave Scout an even stare before looking towards Soldier.

“You got any better questions than twinkle-toes over here?”

Soldier rose up, his back ramrod straight and his hand raised as if he were a schoolboy. “Yes! In which state can you find this man-eating horse seductress?”

Demo registered the question. The descriptor of the kelpie wasn't that odd, even if Demo called it a "demon horse". But it was obvious Soldier had an American-centric view of geography. Still, it was better than Scout’s questions.

“Solly, Scotland doesn’t have states. I dunno where in Scotland kelpies came from, but I grew up hearing about them ever since I grew up in Ullapool.”

For a reason Demo couldn’t understand, the common room grew colder, despite the warm glow of the fire. He felt he should know the reason, but he couldn’t recall it.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Scout sitting up and Pyro sitting upright.

Scout and Pyro exchanged glances.

“Ullapool isn’t an American state, city, or town,” said Soldier.

With a roll of his eye, Demo said, “Of course it bloody isn’t! It’s a Scottish town.”

“Demoman… are you telling me you’re not American?”

“We’ve known each other for six bloody years, and you’re telling me you only knew I’m Scottish now?” Demo crossed his arms. He knew Soldier wasn’t the smartest man, but this was unbelievable.

The silence that followed was a firm confirmation.

Demo wanted to laugh, but he couldn't force one out. He wasn't drunk enough for this conversation.

Six years of working with Demo should be enough to inform Soldier that he was Scottish. Hell, Demo even wore a kilt during the Gravel Wars a few times! There should have been no way Soldier could mistake him for being American. The first-year culture shock should have been a giveaway.

Still, Soldier stayed silent. It was time to break the ice.

Demo shook his head. “Aye, I’m not your average idea of a Scotsman." He shrugged. "The other non-Americans shouldn't be too far from your ideas, though."

There was no way the Soldier could assume everybody on the team was American. After all, there were only three Americans on the team. At least, if one assumed Pyro wasn't American.

Scout was quiet throughout this whole conversation. It would be great if he could fill in the silence with his aimless rambles.

Pyro was currently on the couch with Scout. They weren't mumbling in their usual incoherent manner.

Demo felt he was forgetting something important.

“But everyone else told me they were Americans!” Soldier slumped back into his chair, casting his eyes towards the ceiling. “Was it all a lie?”

Oh right. During the first year, everybody on the team made the pact to not tell Soldier that only three of them were Americans. Considering how jingoistic he was, it made sense at the time. Nobody wanted an overzealous patriot screaming about their lack of Americanness. Everybody had problems already, they did not need another.

Oops.

Soldier must be wearing his thinking helmet today. He may not be the smartest mercenary, but Demo doubted he could lie again. Not while Soldier was in this rare state of deep thinking.

The fire burnt out, lacking the necessary firewood to feed it.

Pyro crept over the Soldier, as if he were a wild buffalo, before poking him in the face.

Soldier didn’t react.

Oh no.

Scout sprang up to his feet, waving a hand in front of Soldier’s face. “Yo, brother! Can you say something?”

Soldier didn’t say anything. He kept staring into the ceiling as if he would soon receive an epiphany.

With the fire burn out, the common room was dim.

After a few moments, Demo closed his book. “Mates, I broke the Soldier.”


	2. The Meaningless Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a team meeting is held and nothing gets done.

Demo didn’t need to inform the rest of the team about the incident with Soldier.

Scout took care of it the next morning, once Soldier left the building.

“Solly knows not all of us are Americans!” Then, as he dashed through the base with flailing arms, he added, “Blame cyclops and his big yap! It wasn’t my freaking fault!”

In Demo’s humble opinion, the Scout could have handled it better. The shouting resulted in a headache. Now, his teammates were also in various states of discontent with him.

To make it worse, it was Monday today, which was the worst day of the week. This day did not look hopeful for Demo. He promised himself a drinking session once this was all over.

Currently, everyone gathered in the damp shower room for an emergency meeting. Everyone would also blame Demo for choosing this meeting place. In Demo’s defence, Medic’s infirmary smelled too much like antiseptic and death. Engie’s workshop was full of deadly contraptions and hidden traps. The actual meeting room was too obvious of a location. Even Soldier would know to look in there once he caught a whiff of the meeting’s existence.

“It’s the biggest room we have right now! Solly wouldn’y be suspecting of us being in here.” Demo crossed his arms, wishing he could down a bottle of scrumpy right now. It would help with his developing headache.

Spy glanced around at the circle of teammates. He shifted away whenever someone invaded his personal space. Then he looked over at Demo with a raised eyebrow, his cigarette in hand.

“Uch, I’d like to see you do better!”

“I said nothing.” Not that he needed to. His scowl and wrinkled nose did the speaking.

It was useless to pursue an argument right now. There was a bigger issue at hand.

First, Demo had to relay the full story to the team, with occasional interjections from Scout. That was not the hard part.

The hard part was the discussion, in which nobody could agree on anything. That was when the Scout decided to act.

“I knew reading was freakin’ dangerous!” The Scout grabbed the leather book from Demo’s grip.

It was a terrible way of lightening up the mood, if that was Scout’s goal.

Today didn’t need this nonsense. Demo reached out for the book “That’s my seanmhair’s book ye wee brat!”

“Eat my dust, cyclops!”

That would be his last words! Demo would make sure of it.

While Scout was fast, even that could be a disadvantage. He did not account for the slickness of the floor. He fell right on his back.

Nearby, Spy snorted and made a comment. He muttered it lowly, as the rest of the mercenaries were too busy observing the chaos. The only indicator of his comment’s existence was when Engie elbowed him in the ribs with a stern look.

With the Scout incapacitated, Demo was able to catch up.

But the Scout aimed the leather book at Pyro. “Yo, mumbles! Catch!”

Demo had to thank his grandmother for bounding the book together. There was even a sturdy leather strip to wound around it. That was the only reason the book was still intact. If it were falling apart, everybody in this room would be dead by now.

Scout tossed the book at Pyro’s waving hands. But he misjudged the angle. He missed the Pyro.

Instead, the book landed into Medic’s open hands, as he was busy gesturing to the Heavy. Upon noticing the sudden weight in his hands, Medic passed the book to Heavy.

“Not my problem,” he muttered.

Heavy made a move to pass the book back to Demo, but Scout ambushed him.

Demo knew Scout did not mean to be outright malicious. Sure, he talked big and barked hard. Yet he was being a wee shit for the sake of lightening up the mood. While Demo could appreciate that, they still needed to focus! But most of all, Demo needed his book back.

“Get back here, you wee-”

Scout threw the book at Pyro. “Catch!”

By instinct, Pyro spiked the book, as if it were a volleyball.

They tossed it back and forth to each other, evolving into a volleyball game.

Demo saw that his book was in no real danger, but he still wanted it back. He squeezed himself into the game. Best to go with the flow right now. He could catch his book when the time was right.

At this point, the other occupants of the room were getting bored by this turn of events. Demo could tell, from how much everyone was glancing at the door. The meeting from earlier was going nowhere. They needed an interruption until everyone could absorb the facts. He’ll make sure to call another meeting at a later date. If he remembers.

“If no one is dying, I will be in my lab.” Medic turned to walk towards the door.

“But what about the Soldier?” asked Demo, before catching his book. He kept it close to his chest while eyeing the Scout.

Medic waved a hand. “He has done nothing so far. I haven’t even seen him all day!”

At that moment, Soldier kicked open the door to the shower room. Like a true American.

“What are you maggots doing in here?” He crossed his arms. “I come back from rocket-jumping to see the base empty. I thought the aliens invaded again!”

It wasn’t the wildest conclusion the Soldier could reach. By Soldier standards, it was tame. After all, there had been a past alien invasion. It was a weird time. No one ever learned why aliens needed milk bottle delivered to their ships. Still, it was fun while it lasted.

Soldier tilted his head. Even without his helmet, it was clear he would be raising his eyebrows. “Are you all… having a secret meeting without me?”

The room was silent.

Demo gave nervous glances to his surrounding teammates, hoping that one of them had an answer. He could not trust himself right now.

“Yes,” replied the Spy.

Demo was hoping it would be anybody else except the Spy who had the answer.

Engie gave Spy another stern look before turning to Soldier’s directions.

He made a calming gesture. “Hold on, Solly-”

Soldier interrupted him. “This is plain un-American!”

Demo winced at the word choice. He prepared to cut in before Soldier could say anything offensive.

“I’ll show you a real and proper American meeting this Wednesday! You better show up at zero seven-hundred hours in the meeting room!” He then raised a fist. “If you do not, I will drag you out of bed and make you run laps until you’re begging to be buried in a box! And then you would wish you showed up.”

“That’s two hours later than your usual wake-up calls, mate,” said the Sniper.

Ever since the first week of being a team, nobody paid attention to Soldier's wake-up calls. Even Demo would sleep in unless one of his hangovers caused him to wake up earlier. Which happened more often than he’d like to admit.

“Are you questioning me, private?”

Sniper shrugged.

Of course, as he slept in his camper van, Sniper often did not have to deal with Soldier’s morning shenanigans. Except for those rare days when Soldier paid him visits. But Sniper’s sleep-deprived threats of shooting him was an effective deterrent. Still, it never lasted long.

Demo should know. He was the one who always told Soldier that bothering Sniper was not recommended. Each time, he would be the first one to hear reports of each failed visit.

Soldier turned around and reached for the door handle. “Show up anyways!” Then he paused. “Engie, I have borrowed your recording device for personal reasons. You can have it back after the meeting.” With that said, he marched out of the room.

“What in the-” Engie shook his head before pushing past his teammates. “Now, Soldier! You best be giving that back to me, y’hear?” He rushed outside the door.

That started a domino effect of everybody else exiting the room. Soon, Demo was alone with his book and his thoughts.

He should talk to the Soldier as soon as possible. He hoped the other still considered him a friend, regardless of his nationality.

If there was anything Demo feared the most, it would be to lose Soldier’s friendship.


	3. Questioning Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demo decides to talk with the Soldier.

That afternoon, there was a battle for control points. While Demo's team did win, everybody needed some time to cool down from the intensity of the battle.

Demo took this as an opportunity to confront the Soldier. He needed to know what he thought of the non-Americans on the team. Non-Americans like Demo. While the Soldier did nothing yet, Demo needed to ensure there was no malice. Soldier may be goofy, but he was also a wildcard. It was what made him dangerous to his enemies. The question was if Soldier would see his own teammates as enemies now.

Demo stood in front of Soldier’s bedroom door, wondering whether he should knock. Would Soldier be harsher on him, knowing he was not American? The events of this morning happened in too much of a rush to provide any basis for how Soldier would react.

Well, only one way to find out.

Demo was about to knock on the door. But before he could even raise his hand, the door opened.

Soldier looked at Demo from underneath his helmet. “Demo! Get yourself in here before I push you in here myself!”

It was not what Demo expected. By this point, he expected for Soldier to tell him to get lost. Still, he wasn’t about to turn down an invite. 

Once Demo strolled into the bedroom, Soldier slammed the door behind him. He looked at the Demo again, saying nothing. 

Demo fidgeted under the insistent stare. Sure, Soldier did tend to stare at people, though Demo never knew why. Still, it would be great if the Soldier could say anything.

If Soldier wasn't going to say anything, Demo might as well talk to him about his purpose of this visit. He took a deep breath. "Hey, Solly-" 

Soldier held up a hand. "Say no more, Demo. I know why you're here."

Demo frowned. "You ken?" He didn’t know Soldier was a mind-reader.

"Yes." 

Soldier strode over to his desk in the corner, a sturdy wooden structure free of any dust. When he returned to his original spot, he was holding a pile of pamphlets in bright colours. 

"Demoman. I trust that you are here to help me spread the good word of our beautiful country, the United States of America." He held out the pile with the respect of a medal. 

"I'm here to what?"

Of all things that could happen in this room… At least it was better than the alternative of rejection. He would take what he could get. 

"You will help me spread the good word about our beautiful country, the United States of America!" Soldier thrust the pile of pamphlets into Demo's arms. 

Out of instinct, Demo received the pamphlets. He took a minute to read the first one in the pile. Demo was horrible at English, as he often confused some words with Scottish Galeic. Still, he was certain that the front cover of the pamphlet had misspellings. For one thing, Soldier spelled America as 'Amerika'. It raised a lot of questions about what Soldier planned to do, but Demo didn’t know where to start. 

"Solly, can't ye slow down a bit? Ah dinnae ken what you're gettin' at."  

Demo should've gotten a quick drink before visiting. His headache from this morning's failed meeting had started to disappear. He felt it returning with each passing second. 

Soldier straightened his back. It was as if he were lining up for a military inspection. "Demoman, you are my friend. A good one, maybe even the best. I trust you to do this task for me. As a non-American, you will greatly assist me in this task. You will be handing out these very informative pamphlets to our non-American teammates!" 

Soldier still considered him a friend! Even if this conversation made little sense, Demo smiled. 

Picking up one of the pamphlets from the pile, Demo read past the front cover.

The rest of the pamphlet was full of grammar mistakes and spelling errors. It was obvious Soldier authored these. He couldn't confirm if anything within this pamphlet had true information.

After all, Soldier was prone to exaggeration and misunderstanding. Like the time he lectured about how Sun Tzu used his fight money to buy a pair of every animal on Earth. Before proceeding to 'beat the crap out of every single one of them'. Demo was unsure of the accuracy, but the Director still filmed it for his video series. He was also unsure if Abraham Lincoln died rocket-jumping up the stairs. At least, that was what the pamphlet said. Then again, he was shit at history in general. 

Who knew what the truth was anymore? 

Still, there was another problem. It was a greater problem than historical accuracy. For one thing, what was the purpose of this? There was no reason for Soldier to take the time to create informative pamphlets. At least, none that Demo could figure out. It was likely the recipients wouldn't read them either. All that bloody effort for nothing. 

Demo raised a pamphlet, about to voice his thoughts.

"I cannot stand here with you all day! I must return to rocket-jumping." He clapped a hand on Demo's shoulder as he walked past. "Oh. And if Engie asks about his recording device, I definitely do not have it hidden away in a secure location!" 

Before Demo could question him further, Soldier bolted out of his room. With how fast Soldier ran, one would think he left something burning in the oven. But once Soldier started on an idea, it would be difficult to stop him. 

For now, Demo could only brace himself and hope for the best. 

"Hah, who am I kidding?" He strolled out of the room in search of his own bedroom, where he kept his alcohol stash. 

When it came to Soldier and his plans, something would always go wrong. It was the reality Demo came to accept once he joined this team. 

As he walked, Demo remembered the pile of pamphlets in his hands. He could throw them out. But he couldn’t do that to his friend. It was best to follow his demands. Besides, there was nothing controversial in the pamphlets. They should be safe enough to pass out. 

What was the worst thing that could happen? 

When he descended the stairs to the common room, Demo found his answer in Engie. Instead of the rubber glove covering his right hand, Engie’s Gunslinger was visible. He clenched his Gunslinger into a fist. 

When he noticed Demo, the usual warm tone in his voice was gone. Instead, it was tense. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Solly ran off to with my recording device, do you?” 

It was a general rule at the base that Engie’s contraptions and tools were off-limits. Unless they wanted a Texan-styled conversation. Nobody wanted to learn what said conversation would entail. 

It was best to give Engie a wide berth for the rest of the day. 

To maintain casualness, Demo shrugged. “Ah dinnae ken.” It was true. Soldier wasn’t specific about the location. 

He looked out of the window, noticing Soldier rocket-jumping in the distance. He hoped Soldier knew to avoid Engie for the rest of the day. 

Engie grumbled under his breath. 

He was about to walk past Engie to deliver the pamphlets. It was best to do this sober.

Engie glanced at the pamphlets. “Whatcha got there?”

“Pamphlets for the ‘non-Americans’. Ah dinnae ken what Solly’s got cooked up under that helmet.” Demo shook his head. 

Engie opened his mouth, about to say something, but the static of the PA speakers cut him off. 

"O say, can you see..." Demo was certain it was a recording of America's national anthem. 

“What in tarnation?” Engie stared at the speaker in the ceiling, raising his eyebrows. 

Demo looked up as well. He wasn’t drunk enough for this whole day. 

At the same time, rockets exploded out in the snowy fields. It was coming closer. It was as if the explosion was right beside the building.

Glass shattered.

Demo and Engie turned away from the noise. They ducked under their arms. Debris bounced off them.

“Screaming Eagles!”

Winter air rushed into the building.

A body thumped against the wooden floors.

When Demo looked up from his arms, he saw Soldier lying down on the floor amidst shattered window pieces. He held a small, black object in one hand. His other hand gripped the Liberty Launcher. His helmet still covered his eyes, but his wide grin was visible. 

There were no words that Demo could say. 

Engie had plenty of words. He tossed his hands in the air and looked down at Soldier. “Soldier! What in Sam Hill are you doing? And is that my darned device you got there in your hands?”

“God bless America,” muttered Soldier. 

Then, he passed out.

Demo could use a drink now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for your feedback! I'm glad you all are enjoying this.


	4. Dangers of a Texan-styled Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Soldier's taken to the infirmary and pamphlets are given out.

It took Demo and Engie to carry the unconscious Soldier downstairs to the infirmary. They had to pound on the door to get the Medic’s attention.

"This is the fourth time he crashed through the window this month!" Medic gestured for the duo to settle the Soldier down on a lumpy infirmary bed.

Once Soldier laid down, Demo rubbed his forehead. He set down the pamphlets on the nearest desk. "Aye, you ken how Solly can be."

Soldier lied limp on the bed. He often did not pass out from rocket-jumping. Demo found it odd he passed out. With the daily beatings he took in battle, Soldier had a high pain tolerance. It happened before, whenever there was enough of a distraction. There shouldn’t be anything urgent enough to break his concentration. After all, the battle was over.

There were days when Demo wondered about Soldier's well-being. At least, without the Respawn system and Medic's technology. It was a wonder how he survived before joining the team. Not that Demo would say it aloud.

“Yes, yes, I know he is a dummkopf. Even after six years…” Medic turned away in a huff, returning to his desk. Before he could sit down, he noticed the pamphlets.

Engie fiddled with the recording device he recovered from Soldier. He checked the reel. “How long till Solly’s up, doc?”

In an airy tone, he replied, “The usual time.” Then, Medic waved one of the pamphlets. “Mind explaining this?”

Engie took the pamphlet. Then, he lifted his goggles to take a better look. His face scrunched up in confusion.

Demo sat down on the stool beside Soldier’s bed. Medic was a good doctor, but Demo was unsure of what to make of his character. It was no secret that Medic enjoyed dubious medical experimentations. Sure, they worked together for six years, but Demo didn’t go out of his way to visit him. It would be best to stay here and look out for Soldier.

Once Demo settled down, he leaned back against the bed. “Aye, Solly made those. Ah dinnae ken why, but he told me to pass them out to the ‘non-Americans’ here.”

“Hm.” Medic stared at one of the pages of the pamphlets with a frown. Then, with a grin, he looked over to the Soldier. “If I keep one of his pamphlets, do you think he’ll agree to be my patient?”

“Doc, no.” Demo crossed his arms, scooching closer to Soldier’s bed. “Solly wouldn’y agree to that.”

“Best to keep those experiments of yours for another time, sawbones.” Engie looked down at his recording device, striding towards the door. “I’ve been meanin’ to take a look at what Solly’s been filming.” He waved without a backwards glance. “I’ll see y’all later.”

 

Engie wasn’t at dinner that night.

Meanwhile, Demo slammed the pile of pamphlets down on the dinner table. “Solly made these for the ‘non-Americans’, he said. Dinnae ask me why.”

Pyro and Spy took pamphlets. The rest of the team looked dumbfounded, waiting for further explanation.

Pyro set the pamphlet alight with one of the lighters they carried around. They made muffled squeals as the coloured paper soon became a burnt black. Once the entire pamphlet became ashes, they reached for Spy’s pamphlet.

Spy batted off Pyro’s flailing hands. Once they backed off, he continued reading. His face smoothed over as if he were playing poker. If one were to look , his eye twitched.

The rest of the non-Americans picked up their pamphlets, which led to a mix of reactions.

Heavy had trouble reading, as his English skills were poor. He wore a frown while perusing.

Medic sat beside Heavy, helping him to understand Soldier’s written ramblings. He resorted to criticizing the pamphlet, giving up on deciphering the pamphlet.

Sniper kept reading, his expression unreadable behind his shooting glasses.

Scout looked over Sniper’s shoulder, wiggling himself into his personal space.

After a few seconds, Demo got up, grabbing a foiled baked potato for the Soldier. “My job’s done, lads. Go bug Solly ‘bout it when he wakes-”

“Ya know the deal with the anthem?” Scout fiddled with his fork and cold potato, bored of reading the pamphlet. “I’m American, an’ even I thought it’s nuts!”

Demo forgot about that. Rushing one’s best mate to the infirmary would do that. He’d have to ask Soldier about it when he awakes.

“What is little Soldier planning?” Heavy placed down his pamphlet. He raised an eyebrow at Demo.

Demo wished he had answers for any of these questions, but he didn’t. “Ah dinnae ken.” He hated how often he had to say that in the past few days.

Spy stood up, tucking the pamphlet into his suit jacket. “Who knows what that idiot is thinking.” He stepped out of the room and disappeared into the darkness of the hallways.

If Demo had to guess, Spy was investigating. Despite his dismissive words, it was certain he wanted the truth.

“Spook’s taking this too bloody seriously.” Sniper scoffed. He tossed the pamphlet on to the table. “What’s Soldier supposed to do, kill us all?”

Medic adjusted his glasses. “He is capable of that, but so are we!” He smiled. “Besides, that dummkopf’s currently recovering.”

“Rocket-jumping went wrong?”

“As per usual.”

Sniper muttered something inaudible to Demo.

Reaching for Sniper’s discarded paper, Scout took the pamphlet and handed it to Pyro.

Pyro lit the pamphlet on fire, burning it to crisps. They clapped when Scout grabbed the leftover pamphlets, pushing the pile towards them.

Chances were, another fire would start again. Demo did not want to be here when that happened. Without another word, he sprinted out of the room. Before he left, he caught a glimpse of Sniper reaching for Pyro’s lighter.

In the safety of the dark hallways, Demo strode back to the infirmary. He needed to take a break from this day, but Soldier also needed dinner. What he didn’t expect to see was Engie about to enter the infirmary.

“Demo, you don’t mind me having a chat with Solly alone, do ya?” Engie’s rubber glove now covered his Gunslinger. He held the recording device with his other hand.

“It’s nae a ‘Texan-styled’ one, is it?” Demo wondered if Soldier did damage the device. If that were the case, his friend was in deep trouble.

“Let’s hope not.” It wasn’t a promising phrase. Still, whatever Engie had to say, Soldier may have deserved it.

“At least give him dinner, will ye?” Demo handed over the foiled baked potato, which was now lukewarm.

With a nod, Engie accepted the potato. Then, he entered the infirmary.

It was about time Demo took a break. He walked upstairs back to his room. Once he was inside his room, he took out a nearby bottle of scrumpy. Then, he chugged down the bottle. The rest of his night continued like that until he blacked out.

Tomorrow better be smoother than today. But he doubted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support thus far!
> 
> If you have any constructive criticism, please feel free to let me know! I always enjoy reading your thoughts, no matter what it may be.


End file.
